


A Drink That Launched 1,000 Apologies

by deawrites



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Adult Content, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drinking, Explicit Language, M/M, Mutual Pining, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 08:02:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13049883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deawrites/pseuds/deawrites
Summary: Jim and Harvey fight; Jim and Harvey drink; Jim and Harvey need to figure out what to do with themselves and one another.





	A Drink That Launched 1,000 Apologies

**Author's Note:**

> All mistakes are my own. All kudos, comments, criticisms, suggestions and other welcome.
> 
> The ending on this one got away from what I originally intended to happen. But since my father is currently in hospital, I'm leaving it the way it is.
> 
> For my wife; who never left me.

Their meeting at Falcone’s funeral still haunted Jim. Harvey had; somewhat; put Jim in his place but more than that Harvey’s demeanor there and at the GCPD later, sparked Jim’s curiosity. Seeing the badge and gun upon his desk made Jim’s knees want to buckle, and certainly did make his chest seize with anguish.  Beyond all of that, Harvey had been different; _sober_ ; and groomed. It wasn’t something he had done just for the funeral; there were no dark circles under his eyes. Gone were the ever-deepening creases of worry upon his face, and the habitual slump of his shoulders. Harvey looked _good_ ; rested; put together. Jim knew it was a pathetic overture on his part, yet he could no more prevent himself from following through with it than he could stop his beating heart. Weak willed, he did the one thing he knew would push his and Harvey’s friendship into oblivion if he were caught; and followed Harvey. For three days he staked out, stalked, followed, and obsessed over Harvey’s activities on Gotham’s city streets. The first thing he learned which surprised him was that Harvey had moved out of his rat’s den of an apartment, and found something that had working elevators and assigned parking in its underground garage. The next thing; even upon knowing that Harvey had resigned from the police force; was that he had a job in a Jewish Bakery, a mere three block walk from where he now lived.  Jim had never known Harvey to cook, let alone bake; in the span of their entire friendship. There was plenty he didn’t know about his ex-partner nowadays. The last shocking revelation was when he discovered that Harvey was visiting various recreational centers, basements and churches all over town. Upon further investigation he discovered the reason for the smattering of visits was that he was attending Alcoholics Anonymous meetings.

 

The last time Jim had known Harvey to be intentionally sober was for the brief time he worked at Scottie’s bar and had resigned from the force. Until Jim had begged him to return, Enssen’s death the final push Harvey needed to embrace his fate and live as a cop. Something he was now refuting; walking away from; and this time Jim was determined he wasn’t going to stand in the Irishman’s way. Harvey’s choice had been made; he preferred civilian life; and Jim had to admit that it sure as hell agreed with him. His resolve won out until Sofia Falcone backed him into a corner and placed him beneath her polish lacquered thumb. He had only himself to blame; no matter how much it hurt his ego to hear it.  He had allowed her to play him. He had strayed from the path of honesty, roused the troops and then chosen to continue forward living the lie. He had been foolish, stupid and was now paying the ultimate price for his arrogance. For now, Sophia had won. Jim had fantasized that together he and Harvey would some how rally to save the day. Jim would be charging at the lead in the foreground and Harvey would be behind him, watching his back and reminding Jim when to show caution.  Harvey had turned that desire onto its ear by quitting the GCPD. Harvey had chosen to walk away, with his tail between his legs, humiliated by his own failure to be the better man. A choice Jim knew now, he would never have made, nor could never embrace. Only Harvey was gone, and Jim was determined not to approach him and ask him to return.

 

Right up until 7:00 p.m. on a rainy Thursday night, Jim peeled out of his wet coat and placed it on the back of the hard, metal, folding chair and sat down across a circle of people, and faced Harvey.  He had stood in the back of the room in the main hall at the rec-center and watched the entire AA meeting. Harvey had not spoken then, but he had gone to another room in the building afterward for a support group session with seven other people, some fresh from the AA meeting as he was. Jim unbuttoned his suit jacket and straightened his tie down his front, gaze locking with Harvey’s. He could tell that Harvey was angry; he looked torn between remaining seated and leaving immediately. Jim couldn’t blame the older male; he wished that he didn’t have to be here at all, but he needed to speak to Harvey: kept reminding himself how much he missed the other man and their friendship. Even if Harvey stared at him right now with unadulterated disgust.  Harvey crossed his arms over his chest as the facilitator began the group, and the first person spoke. It was neither Harvey nor Jim, but three quarters of the way through the meeting that shifted. Jim was pressured to introduce himself and speak. His stomach lurched, twisting around his lower spine, in attempts to vacate his body through his lower intestines, yet he swallowed and shifted in the chair. He firmly reminded himself that he was here to salvage what remained of his and Harvey’s tenuous friendship; to remind the Irishman that together they were a force to be reckoned with; belonged together and not apart. His mouth felt dry and he swallowed, gaze settling upon Harvey as if the two of them were the only people in the room; in the city; in the world.

 

“I always thought the worst day of my life was when my father died. I thought that I couldn’t get any lower, or more desperate than that moment: but I was wrong. I was saved by the comforting presence of the man who would later become the best friend I had ever known.” Jim paused and swallowed once more in attempts to wet his mouth and hold his voice steady. He wasn’t one for long speeches or many words, yet he didn’t see any other option but to reveal his feelings now. “I don’t know if he remembers that day; the wreckage that was a twelve-year-old boy’s worst nightmare. He was just a uniformed cop, and it was one of hundreds of calls he would work over his time wearing the blues. But I remember; the things he said to me; the feel of his hand upon my shoulder to keep me grounded and calm. I remember it all.  I re-met him years later and,” Jim fell silent leaving the, _‘and he was such a disappointment to me at what he had become’_ unsaid.

 

“Go on.” Harvey ordered before the facilitator, or anyone else could speak to give him encouragement.

 

Jim nodded. “I misjudged him that day; felt betrayed that he hadn’t lived up to my expectation of the man I thought he should be. But working with him day in and day out, I soon learned how arrogant those judgements were; how unfair I was being to him. We began to respect one another; build a friendship and it was the best thing that had happened to me since I could remember.” Jim took a visible breath and looked down briefly and rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. His tie felt extremely tight, his throat closing with emotion, but he pushed through. Lowering his hand, he raised his head and continued. “Then he left the force, but he didn’t leave me. Not for a second, but I was too stubborn; too stupid to see that. I isolated from him; believed that if he wasn’t on the job with me than, life would be impossible for him to live happily. Without considering his needs; his life; I pressured him to come back to work; come back to me. I couldn’t let him be happy, I couldn’t let him be whoever he wanted to be. I was a shit friend; a worse man than I would later accuse him of being.”

 

Jim blinked away a few tears. “He came back anyway. Stood by me and my ceaseless crusade. Then he made an error in judgement; something I feel was a terrible mistake; and instead of supporting him and trying to help him through it; help him realize what might have been the right decision for him; I crucified him for it. I judged him, found him lacking, and rubbed his face in the disaster. Never once, did I try and understand why he did what he did. I just lectured him.” Jim shook his head and shrugged. “I drove him away. From me, our friendship, his life as a cop; I pushed, and I pushed. Just like I always do the people I care about.”

 

Anger flashed across Harvey’s features when before he had worn an expression of pain and sympathy. “Bull- _fucking_ - **shit**!” He yelled at Jim pointing at him. “You didn’t push me away, you _punished_ me. You could have signed that Captaincy form at any point before that moment. Or after! But no, you had to do it right in front of me. You stood there, and you had to be a self-righteous, asshole because I didn’t do what the _great_ Jim Gordon, would have.”

 

The facilitator held up a hand interrupting Harvey. “Uh, we don’t use full names,”

 

“Shut up!” Harvey and Jim yelled at him in unison. The man fell silent, shrinking back into his chair a little. A few people shifted uncomfortably while others excitedly watched, waiting for what would transpire next.

 

Harvey kept talking. “You didn’t stay away because you ‘ _made a mistake and pushed’_ ; you stayed away from me because you were punishing me! Don’t sit there and pretend there’s a difference.” Harvey lowered his hand and sat back in his chair. “I’m not an idiot Jim.”

 

“No, you’re not.” Jim agreed emphatically moving to sit forward in his own chair. “You were right; about everything; the final bill, Falcone, _everything_.”

 

“Well no, fucking, duh!  I know how Gotham works and you’ve **never** accepted it for the city it _is_ ; just the city you want it to be.” Harvey exclaimed throwing out his arms in grand gesture. He pointed at Jim once more. “Now that you’re feeling the tightening of the screws, you feel lost, you need support, so you thought you’d just show up in my life and get me to do what I **always** do. Which is save your ass from yourself! Not this time Jim, I can’t. I can’t do this anymore. You take, and you take and I just, I _can’t_!”

 

Jim looked stunned as if he had been slapped across the face. “Harvey,”

 

“No!” Harvey yelled emphatically. “You’re **not** a virus Jim; you’re **not** _poison_. You’re just an overly self-righteous, self-centered, prick! I’m trying to get my life together. I can’t be there for you right now. I need to concentrate on myself for once, instead of you.”

 

The silence that rang in the room following that pronouncement had everyone looking at Jim for his response. Jim nodded thrice and rose to his feet. “I under, I understand.” He exited the circle and grabbed his coat from the back of his chair. “Please call me when,” He faltered and held Harvey’s remorseful gaze. “when.” Needing to say nothing further he mumbled an apology to the group and strode off, getting out into the raining night before his heartbeat pounded out of his chest. Tears and raindrops obscured his vision, but he walked up the block to where his car was parked. He sat for several minutes reeling from the pain before placing the key in the ignition. Harvey was turning away from him, and it surprised him even though he knew it shouldn’t. Regardless of Harvey’s insistence that Jim wasn’t a virus he knew the reality of the situation was that he would always be the man that ruined people’s lives when he loved them. It was a talent; a calling he supposed; and he hated it. However, there was no making Harvey see reason for now; the Irishman wanted to straighten out his life and perhaps save himself from Jim’s destructive affections. Jim wanted to be supportive of that, and yet he didn’t have the slightest inclination of how to do so. All he could think of was Harvey telling him no; pushing him away when all Jim wanted was to pull Harvey closer.

 

Jim wasn’t certain how he made it home, but he realized he was there when he stuck the key into the door and stumbled through the threshold. He closed and locked the door, tossed his keys and coat onto the floor and threw his suit jacket and tie down next. He headed immediately to the butcher table he had an array of liquors standing on and poured himself some scotch. He gulped it down as if it were water and poured another three fingers into the glass. Harvey might be sober right now but there was no law that stated Jim had to be.  He would regret his decision in the morning, but for right now Jim didn’t care if he ever saw the dawn. He hurt, and nothing would stop the pain except for Harvey’s hand upon his shoulder and laugh in his ear. He missed his best friend.

 

Work became a fine balance between being hungover keeping the lies straight in his head, and holding on to some shred of dignity he might have remaining. Some part of himself that wasn’t lost to the pain; to the deceptions; to the knowledge that his friendship with Harvey was over. Jim told himself it was for the best; that he had helped drag Harvey into near death on the job countless times, and that Harvey had every right to seize self-preservation when the opportunity was far to dire to turn away from. Harvey would survive if Jim kept his distance; Harvey was a better man when Jim was removed from his life, no matter how desperately Jim missed and needed his presence within his own.  The one relationship Jim had vowed to never desecrate had ended in an anticlimactic disaster. Jim had lost his center; his talisman and touchstone; Jim had lost Harvey for good. It was killing him.

 

**Two years later:**

He was out from underneath Sophia Falcone’s thumb. Penguin was currently scheming his next big foray into controlling Gotham from the top down. Crime statistics were showing favorable for the GCPD and its Captain, Jim Gordon.

 

Jim shoved his right hand into the trouser pocket of his dress slacks and closed his palm around the round, chip that stated he had been a year sober. It had been a battle, but he had managed to see himself through to the other side. Gone were the days that he drank to forget, to numb himself or to fall asleep. He realized he had a sever problem the year after his friendship with Harvey Bullock had burned to ashes. While he told himself, he would never open himself up like that again to friendship, brotherhood and love; his own survival instincts kicked in. Jim saw for the first time that he couldn’t clean up Gotham if he were constantly drunk and disinterested in anything but his own misery. In the beginning he had seen Harvey around the city on occasion, and the event was always a stab to the heart and twisting of his gut. It hurt, so he retreated further into himself and closed himself off from looking; hoping; seeking out Harvey’s presence. He heard a rumor from Alvarez that Harvey had left Gotham altogether. The bender that Jim had engaged in upon hearing that news nearly cost him both his career and life. It was then that his slow journey to sobriety began.

 

While he didn’t drink alcohol, caffeine was not forbidden, and Jim was at his latest favorite coffee shop sipping his first brew of the morning, and scanning the Gotham Gazette for errors reported in GCPD cases written about in the ‘crime watch’ column of the Metro section. He sensed a presence behind him but didn’t react outwardly. He tensed in anticipation, in fight or flight mode, when a voice he never thought he would hear again said, “Hey Junior.”

 

Jim’s head whipped around so quickly he nearly suffered whiplash. Harvey was kind enough to move around him to stand before him so that he wasn’t nearly breaking his neck. “H-Harvey?”

 

Harvey nodded and pushed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. He wore those and a plaid, flannel shirt and work boots. His hair was shorter, he still had the beard, but it was close cropped and well groomed. He was about seventy pounds lighter and in Jim’s estimation looked years younger. “How are you?”

 

It was a loaded question and Jim’s expression said as much. The two former friends stared at one another for a stretch of profound silence. Finally, Jim rescued them and said, “Stunned. I heard you had left Gotham.”

 

“I went home,” He explained with a slight shrug. “to my mother’s people. It’s good for me.”

 

“I can see that.” Jim smiled a little tense. He hated that the easy manner between them no longer existed. “Would you like to sit down?” Jim motioned to the chair across from him.

 

Harvey shook his head. “I have a funeral in a couple of hours.” Harvey withdrew one of his hands from his pockets and rubbed his chin. “That’s why I’m in town.”

 

Concern riddled Jim’s expression and tone. He still could not stem off the ache of wanting Harvey to remain near him, even after all this time; after all the work he had done to distance himself from it. “I’m sorry to hear that. Who’s funeral?”

 

“Dix.” Harvey cleared his throat, a little emotion stuck in it. “He didn’t recognize me the last time I saw him, and the nurses told me he was pretty bad at the end.”

 

Jim sat forward in his chair a little, hand twitching to reach out and touch Harvey but he knew he had lost that right a long time ago. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Do you mind if I,”

 

“Yeah. I do.” Harvey interrupted predicting Jim’s question of desiring to attend the funeral. “Sorry, but the service is just for close family and friends.”

 

“I understand.” Jim surrendered a slight tremor to his voice. “After the funeral, would you like to meet up for coffee? Or a meal?”

 

Harvey gripped the chair with his hand and the opposite one ran back through his hair. “I don’t think that would be good for either of us. You know?”

 

Jim took a breath and severed eye contact for a split second before looking at Harvey once more. “You mean it wouldn’t be good for you. I’d like nothing more than to spend some time with you Harvey. I don’t want us to have to leave it like we did.”

 

“Well, that’s hardly all your choice now is it?” Harvey reminded with a slight bite to his tone. “Seeing as there are **two** people involved, right?”

 

Jim smiled affectionately, with just a slight upturn to the corners of his mouth. “You’re right. I always forgot to consider your feelings when I made decisions for the two of us. I know my charging recklessly ahead hurt you so much more than I would ever allow myself to see.”

 

The admission seemed to surprise Harvey a little and he shrugged in immediate response. “Yeah, some of the guys used to call you, ‘oblivious Jim’. You know, like that curious monkey in the kids’ books?”

 

Jim chuckled. “Where my treatment of you was concerned, I deserved that.”

 

Harvey canted his head to one side. “Who are you and where is the real Jim Gordon?”

 

This time Jim did reach out with a hand to Harvey, but fell short of touching him. His expression was earnest, and eyes flooded with worry. “It’s me Harvey. I’m here. I’ve just, been doing some soul searching and made some changes over the past couple of years.” Jim retracted his hand and then rose to his feet, and moved to stand just a few inches away from Harvey. He was so close he could almost feel the other man’s body heat; smell his long-missed scent. “I realize that you’re only here for the funeral, and I’m genuinely sorry for that bringing you back to Gotham. But,” Jim paused and reached out and finally touched Harvey’s hand with his own. His skin immediately sparked to life, tingling at the contact. “is this it for four years of intimate friendship? An over-civilized, chance meeting in a café? Me needing desperately to sit and talk with you and you having to walk away?”

 

Harvey glanced down at their union of hands and slowly extricated his from Jim’s with a sharp tug. “It’s the way it is Jim. The way you made it.”

 

Jim nodded. “I know. But now I’d like to change it for a few minutes; at least one final time to explain,”

 

“No.” Harvey stated firmly. “That’s what **you** need; not what I do. It hasn’t changed at all from when we were together.”

 

“It has.” Jim insisted closing the last few inches separating them. “Harvey, I _love_ you.” Jim reached up with a hand and placed it at the nape of Harvey’s neck pulling his head forward. His lips connected with Harvey’s and abruptly Jim felt the pressure of Harvey’s palms pushing him back. It was a nonnegotiable demand, but still done with restraint keeping their public arena in mind. Horrified and pained Jim’s gaze pleaded with Harvey, his entire body singing to life.

 

“It never stops with you, does it?” Harvey demanded so heartbroken that Jim felt like dying all over again. “You, fucking bastard. How can you _do_ this to me now?” Harvey withdrew his hands and stepped backward, shaking his head. “Goodbye Jim.” With that Harvey turned and exited the café. Jim wanted to chase him, but his feet wouldn’t move; at first. Seconds after Harvey was out the door Jim was searching the pedestrians on the sidewalk to determine which way the man had escaped.

 

Spotting him he cried out, “Harvey! Wait!” He charged after Harvey and grabbed him by the arm. Harvey spun on his heels and shoved Jim back, anger flashing violent and ugly across his features.

 

“No! You don’t get to do this Jim! You don’t get to re-break my heart. I knew it was a mistake to walk over to you! I should have just followed my instincts and left right then.” Harvey clenched a fist, rising it a little. “Now _leave_ me **alone**!”

 

“But,” Jim grabbed for Harvey and was decked for his actions. Harvey wasted no time following the punch but to step out and hail a cab just to escape Jim’s presence. Still reeling from the assault, Jim watched his friend get into the car and called out to him once more. Charged the vehicle but it peeled off from the curb back into traffic, leaving Jim in the street to get honked and yelled at by other drivers. Overcome with disbelief Jim got back onto the sidewalk and stood for several minutes staring off in the direction the cab had gone.  Two hours later Jim was sat in a dive bar with bad service and worse lighting, dropping his sobriety chip into a triple whiskey like it was a mere seltzer tablet.

 

He was alone.

 

**Six Months Later:**

The flight had been brutal but the jet lag even more so. He was thankful to finally be accustomed to the time shift and be on solid ground in Donegal. From there it was a matter of renting a car and driving his way to Doochary. This was the potentially the second biggest mistake of his life; the first being ever letting Harvey go in the first place. Jim found the town’s second of two pubs it boasted and the only one that was currently open. The moment he walked through the door the din inside of the place quieted down enough for Jim to be able to hear the music playing over the speakers. Too many sets of eyes were upon him and Jim scouted the crowed for the one he was in search of. He didn’t see him.

 

“Evening.” Jim greeted trying to sound like he was calmer and had more authority than he did. “I’m looking for Harvey Bullock.”

 

“And who the fuck might you be, then?” The bartender demanded as it was his building. There were several comments of encouragement and demands after it.

 

Jim looked at the room once more than addressed the bartender. “My name is, Jim.”

 

“Gordon?” Asked a huge wall of a man rising from one of the chairs.

 

“From Gotham?” Demanded a stern looking woman to his left, she crossed her arms and glared at him as if he had already answered.

 

“Uh, yes.” The words barely left Jim’s mouth when a roar of insults was hurled at him, along with cocktail napkins, beer bottles, peanuts and anything else brought to hand. Jim ducked and deflected some of it with his arms and hands, but the woman to his left immediately began to punch him in the arms and chest.

 

“Get out, you son of a whore! You’re not welcome here!”

 

Jim was about to attempt to restrain her by the wrists to offer himself meager protection, when the mountain of a man roared, “Don’t you touch my sister you fucking arsehole!” Within seconds Jim found himself pushed out of the pub and into the street by the man and still getting struck by the woman.

 

“You ruined him, and I want you to go to hell where you belong!” She yelled.

 

“Get off with you!” The man shouted.

 

“I’m not here to hurt him!” Jim pleaded with them. “I came here to tell him I love him; to start over! I resigned from the force and want to make a life with him!”

 

The rain of blows stopped for a split second as the woman processed what she had been told. Her punches resumed a new and Jim could have sworn she added kicking to the mix. “You don’t deserve him! Get on a plane right now or Rolland here’ll make you disappear for good!”

 

“I should do that anyway.” Rolland quipped reaching for Jim’s throat.

 

Jim managed to back away enough out of their reach.  “I’ll leave tomorrow if I can just see him for a few minutes. _Talk_ to him.”

 

The woman; Harvey’s sister Marion; crossed her arms. “And just what would y’say? You’re sorry? You want to start over? You love him and never will hurt him again? Never leave? It’s all bullshite and lies! The moment it suits you, you’ll turn your back on him and do whatever is best for you, just like you always did.”

 

Jim straightened his form. “I’m at the Willow Cottage B&B if he wants to contact me.” Jim stared at them for a few seconds and Marion spat at his feet, Rolland moving to stand beside her.

 

“Get the fuck outta here!” Rolland ordered and with a flip of the hand as if to swat Jim away. Nothing more to be done, Jim turned and headed back in the direction of the parked car, to take him to the lodgings he had arranged by phone prior to walking into the pub.

 

Jim spent a fitful night and finally drifted off to sleep near dawn. He rose a few hours later and was just about to exit his room to go down to breakfast when he opened the door to find Harvey standing there.

 

“Jim.” He greeted coldly in suspicion and Jim couldn’t blame him.

 

“Harv.” Jim stepped back from the door to allow him to enter the room. “Please.”

 

Harvey paused before complying, showing his reluctance. He moved to the only chair in the room and sat on the edge of it. He rubbed the palms of his hands together and rested his elbows upon his knees.  “I heard about last night.” He raised his gaze to Jim.

 

“Marion and Rolland read you the riot act, yeah?”

 

“Yeah.” Jim admitted moving to sit down upon the side of the right side of the bed. “They did. But, it wasn’t anything that I didn’t deserve.” He watched Harvey process that and look at him expectantly. Jim took his cue and took a breath. “I resigned.”

 

“They said. And that’s supposed to what? Make me fall to my knees in gratitude?”

 

“Not at all.” Reasoned Jim gently. “But it says that I’m committed to us.” He motioned between them. “That I’ll give up everything if it means I can be with you.”

 

“But it _doesn’t_ mean that.” pointed out Harvey. “I never delivered you any ultimatums. I just told you that I can’t be with you. This is another example of why. You give up your job, fly around the world, declare your intentions; to my _sister_ and _brother_ , by the way; and I’m supposed to what? Just follow along? I don’t do that anymore Jim. It was killing me. Don’t you get that?” Harvey motioned between them. “So, all of this? Is just you leaping in before you access the room.” Harvey shook his head.  “It’s a wasted trip Jim.”

 

“I haven’t been able to think about anything but our kiss six months ago. I’ve been obsessing over you, and what you might be feeling,”

 

“So, call! Text! Jesus Jim!” Harvey snapped. “I didn’t ask you for any declarations of love. I didn’t ask you for anything but to leave me the hell alone, and you can’t even do that for me!” Harvey opened his hands in grand gesture. “What will it take for you to just leave me be?”

 

“Because that can’t be what you want.” Jim pleaded with tears in his eyes.

 

“It never matters to you what I want.” Harvey answered with just as much emotion.

 

“It’s all that matters to me now!” Jim whined in desperation. “I quit the force for **you**. I came here for **you**. I will do anything for **you**. Just please? Don’t ask me to go. Just give me a chance to show you I’ve changed and that I want us.”

 

Harvey looked down at the floor and closed his eyes for a brief breath. He looked up and rubbed a hand down his face before replying, “You’ll be the death of me Jim.”

 

“I know all I ever did was hurt you, but I promise you now that I, I won’t anymore.”

 

Harvey shook his head, skepticism all over his expression. “No.” He said after a beat. “I can’t risk it.”

 

Jim moved off the bed and lowered himself to his knees before Harvey. “Please?” He begged gaze filled with tears. “Don’t say I’m not worth it.”

 

“I’m not.” Harvey assured him. “You did. In all the ways you keep hurting me. You can’t help yourself Jim. Even now you’ve set us up to fail.”

 

Jim rested his head upon one of Harvey’s thighs. “ _Please_. I need you, Harvey.”

 

Harvey placed a shaky hand upon Jim’s head and gently petted his hair, smoothing it down from his crown to the nape of his neck. “Yes, but I need to move on.”

 

Jim’s arms encircled Harvey and he began to cry, chest wracking sobs that shook them both. Harvey shed silent tears while Jim sobbed and continued to affectionately stroke his hair. It was all he could do to keep from relenting his position. Jim was going to be the death of him if he stayed and Jim just couldn’t; or wouldn’t; accept that. Harvey knew he was doing what was right for him but it resoundly made his heart ache.

 

In the end Jim returned to Gotham; returned to the GCPD and made Police Commissioner in record time. After all, his career was the only thing he had left that was worth living for. Eventually he met his wife and wed; having a child shortly after their nuptials. He never forgot Harvey, never stopped pining for him, yearning for what should have been, and his wife could see it in him. After a time, she left him and their daughter; Barbara; had dual households to divide her time. For Harvey it was much the same, he met a woman; wed her only there were no children to expand the family with. He never forgot Jim. Never stopped thinking about him, yearning for his friendship and love within his life; wishing things had been different: that Jim had been different. Yet he could never change what wouldn’t be mended. No one could when it came to Jim; and not even Harvey.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A 1,000 Apologies That Launched A Drink](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13422687) by [deawrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deawrites/pseuds/deawrites)




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